Tea and Torture
by UniquePerspective
Summary: A young American woman moves to London and is suddenly whisked into a dangerous adventure when she discovers the presumably dead Sherlock Holmes living above her tea and coffee shop. Rated T to be cautious, there will be action, alcohol reference and perhaps some language. Takes place in the three years between series 2 and 3. Please review! Sort of Sherlock/OC, you will see.
1. Downpour

"Eliza you cannot tell anybody what you have seen here tonight, the lives of my friends may depend on it."

"I've got no one to tell Mr. Holmes."

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Eliza Oak was an unusual lady.

She was intellectually advanced at an early age, with an extraordinary potential that was undetected. So she grew up seemingly average, but with an observant and deeply philosophical mind. Like most Americans she was always focused on the newest thing, but with a flair for books, movies, coffee and tea. Always a patient girl but she thirst for a thrill only her own writing, drawing and mysteries could quench. She had no idea however how dangerous this hunger would become when she decided to start fresh in London...

*****Flash forward*******

The grey London sky mercilessly poured water on its inhabitants. If one were across from the airport at 2 AM they would have seen a curious woman trying desperately to hail a cab and escape the onslaught of rain. The tourist stood out, having two suitcases and numerous bags straddled on her arms and having, despite her best efforts, a certain awe on her face that one could compare to seeing a shooting star. Eliza had always dreamed of living in Europe since she could remember, before even arriving she had already found a job co-managing The Tea Cozy. She would operate the small tea and coffee shop with a co-manager. That is, if she could hail a cab and escape the watery bullets cascading from above. Finally snatching a cab she hurriedly stuffed her luggage in, bustling about in her clumsy way. Ducking inside the cabbie asked "Where to?" in his usual grim fashion and she cheerily replied "103 Cleveland Street!" and the cab rushed away.

She then exited the cab and fumbled with the keys until she ducked inside. She immediately noticed the what would soon be familiar smell of spices, boiling water and espresso. The currently closed café was a patchwork of worn leather couches, rugs and assorted wooden furniture with a struggling sage and chocolate color scheme. Looking about she soon noticed her co-manager had left a note on the long wooden counter expressing his greetings and explaining that he would only check in regularly, not work directly with her. This was good news for Eliza, not having much money this would give her the opportunity to essentially live in the shop. Stifling a yawn she removed her jacket and tucked her luggage behind the spacious counter. "I'll only rest for a moment..." She thought as she collapsed on a sofa, soon engulfed in a wave of sleep.

BANG! BANG-BANG!

Eliza awoke violently to the sound of gunshots. She scrambled about the room, and produced a knife from the kitchen. With 911 a button away, and knife in hand, she crept upstairs to the flat she was informed of. Heart pounding, she reached the door of the flat and it swung open, revealing a small, drab room containing only a neat desk, cot, lamp and an armchair facing one of the heavily curtained windows. She observed all of this in only a few moments and then shakily called out "I-i know you're here! I also realize that you were only shooting at the wall, for some bizarre reason, and I know you are behind the door!" A pale, male hand appeared from behind the door in a non-threatening stance and an equally mysterious, British voice soothed "I'm dropping my gun now." She heard the clang of the gun on the wooden floor when the man suddenly whirled around the door, gun in hand, and in one swift movement pinned her hand with the knife against the wall, knocked the phone out of her hand and simultaneously pressed the gun against her temple.

In this position she could clearly see her attacker leaning into her, he was an oddly handsome man with curly ebony hair and a tall, slender physique. His pale skin practically glowed in the moonlight, revealing a stunning facial structure. She fearfully met his green-blue eyes as they examined her body and he menacingly whispered "Who are you?"

Eliza gulped, but being completely innocent in this situation she replied honestly; "Eliza Oak, the new co-manager of The Tea cozy.. I-i heard the gunshots and came to make sure everything was-"

"It's obvious WHY you came ." He said irritably, slightly shaking his head downward, but then he tilted his head and searched her eyes with curiosity "But how did you deduce I was behind the door?"

She stared steadily into his eyes and hissed with new-found courage "I will tell you if you let me go." With that he stared at her for a few more moments and then lowered the gun and stepped back a bit, towards the door. Eliza pulled her wrist free and rubbed it in an exasperated fashion as she explained "The bullet holes in the wall show the direction of entry and since the windows are all firmly shut, for what looks like at least a week, you couldn't have left the room. That along with the little furniture depicting few hiding spots and the shadows of your feet from the lamp to the left clearly showed your position." She then snatched up her phone and growled "Now give me a reason Mr.."

"Holmes, Sherlock Holmes"

"Give me a reason, Mr. Holmes, why I shouldn't call the cops right now!"

Sherlock gave a sigh and then took a step towards Eliza, tentatively lowering her arm with the phone and then studying her eyes as he whispered;

"Eliza you cannot tell anybody what you have seen here tonight, the lives of my friends may depend on it."

"I've got no one to tell Mr. Holmes." Eliza replied honestly, a deep empathy making her look away sadly.

Eliza then lowered her arms and Sherlock did the same in an eerie neutrality. She then looked him in the eye and slowly stuck out her hand. Sherlock shook it and they both smiled in a very nervous way before returning to their respective places. As Eliza laid back down on the couch she couldn't help but wonder if Sherlock would come down for coffee later that morning.


	2. Research

Eliza woke up to her alarm still enveloped in the fog of too little sleep. She pushed her bangs and assorted strands of honey and chestnut hair out of her face with a groan, willing herself awake. She leaped groggily from rug to rug, not wanting to touch the icy, wooden floor, until she reached the counter with a final spring. Smiling at herself for successfully navigating her new territory Eliza took a confident step forward -only to slip on a puddle she had left from the rain the day before- and stumbled right into a man. A gasping scream escaped her lips and she jumped back, but soon realized who the man was.

"You are remarkably less observant in the morning." Sherlock Holmes observed, a cocky smirk spreading across his face.

"It's 4 in the morning, and I haven't had my coffee._ Bite me_." Eliza hissed.

"I'd rather not." He said with a cheeky head tilt.

Eliza rolled her eyes as he removed a steaming mug of peppermint tea from the counter on the inside wall.

"You have no right to be down here." She said, crossing her arms in a defiant stance.

"_Actually_ I have a certain prearranged contract with your co-manager..." Sherlock stated with his back toward her as he scooped sugar into his tea. "While _you_ have violated your contract with your employer who is undoubtedly unaware of you residing in his shop." he said turning to her again. As he took a long sip of tea Sherlock studied her, and Eliza soon felt uncomfortable being examined by this strange man, early in the morning, with only a small tank top and pair of boxers as pajamas. With a skittish turn she faced the cupboard on the wall, searching for a mug as she snapped "At least I have a reason for being here, I actually own the place (partially) and don't sneak up on people in early hours of the morning after attacking them the night before!"

At this Sherlock did not know what to do. This girl actually had a clever point, even if it was driven by anger. He even felt somewhat guilty. She fascinated him, here was a logical but emotionally motivated thinker. Turning away from her he allowed himself to grin slightly.

"I suppose you're right" he admitted quietly as she turned the coffee maker on.

Eliza frowned, realizing she may have upset him. "Sherlock I'm sorry, I'm just really not a morning person." she apologized, turning toward him.

Sherlock sighed and after a moment Eliza turned back to her now ready coffee while he made his way back around the counter and to the stairs.

"Sherlock." Eliza called.

"Yes?" responded Sherlock irritably, abruptly stopping on the steps.

"What exactly do you do, cooped up in there all day?" she asked curiously.

"Research." He replied and with a sharp turn he cascaded up into his flat and firmly shut the door.

_God I hope he's not a rapist or something. _Eliza thought as she tided up the shop, erasing all signs of her staying overnight. _Perhaps I should do some research of my own _she speculated as she turned on The Tea Cozy open sign to start what would be her first day in London.

**Sorry if this is a bit short, please review!**

**Thanks for reading 3**


	3. Discoveries

With no supervision, Eliza was free to make her own hours and decided to close the shop at 12:00 and reopen at 4:00, giving her some freedom until her customers needed another dose of caffeine. Thinking about the previous night and that morning's events she sat down on the couch, overcome by curiosity as she pulled her laptop out of its case. Being a café the shop had unlocked wi-fi and she quickly let her fingers sprint across the keyboard, typing into her favorite search engine; **Sherlock Holmes**.

Clicking on article after article she was stunned by what she read as the images and words on the screen danced in her eyes. Her mouth was agape as she concentrated fiercely on the new information before her. Sherlock Holmes, a once seemingly great detective who solved many complex cases, had committed suicide after being exposed to the world as a fake, even hiring an actor to be his nemesis. If it were not for the pictures in the article she would have assumed the man living upstairs was an impostor. Slowly closing the laptop she leaned back into the sofa, reflecting on this new information and her previous conversations with the peculiar man upstairs.

"Why is the shop closed?"

"You have to stop doing that!" Eliza exclaimed, putting a hand to her chest as if to calm her now racing heart. She avoided his eyes, silently freaking out about more than his elusive entry.

Sherlock cocked his head to the side, examining her strange state.

"You've found out."

"How-"

He turned briskly, and started pacing the room as he explained. "The laptop in your lap is on, but asleep, meaning you have recently used it. Since the shop has been closed for *checks watch* 20 minutes now I calculate you were doing more than just checking your email, but not long enough for a show or game. This means research, and by your obvious curious nature and being in deep enough thought to not notice me come down I can conclude that the news was shocking. This and the way you looked especially frightened when you saw me and are avoiding eye contact confirm that you have discovered who I _was."_

Eliza looked with awe and terror at the man now scrutinizing a painting on the wall opposite to her, not knowing what to say. Sherlock suddenly turned and rushed toward her, never breaking eye contact as he sank into the armchair across from her.

"So what do you think?"

"I..." She stammered, biting her lip nervously but then looked into his eyes and continued calmly; "I don't know why you did it, but I imagine it would take an ingenious man to fake his death to the world."

Eliza finished with a sheepish smile and Sherlock returned it.

"But I don't understand why you told me who you are, I could have never found out." She said in a questioning tone.

"Perhaps." Sherlock replied bluntly, ignoring the unsaid question.

Eliza looked down and decided not to pry, at least not now.

"So why _did _you do it?' She asked.

Seeing no better option, he told her, He told her about Moriarty, Moriarty's three break-ins, the trial, the kidnapping, the set-up, his flee from the authorities and how he realized he was going to die.

Sherlock paused at this point, reading her face as she processed his story.

"Go on." She said, focusing her eyes on his once again.

Sherlock continued, telling her that he formulated a plan, that he arranged for Moriarty to meet him on the rooftop, how Moriarty explained his scheme, how he threatened Sherlock's friends, how Moriarty killed himself just to make him suffer, how John came, how he said goodbye and that he jumped. He left out Molly and everything she had done though, he didn't want to explain that right now.

Sherlock saw the tears welling behind Eliza's eyes as she whispered "How could you do that, make your friends believe you're dead?"

"It was necessary."

"Yes, but why still? I mean, how long are you going to let them believe that you're _dead_?"

Sherlock's voice changed then, enunciating every syllable with a ferocity that frightened Eliza .

"I need to make sure that _no one_ will harm my friends, by_ any means possible_. I will hunt Moriarty's followers until it kills me if I have to."

Eliza opened her mouth to tell him that he shouldn't hurt anyone, but then closed it. Moriarty was obviously an insane genius so there was no doubt that if his follower's had another chance to hurt Sherlock in any way they would. She then thought of her family and friends at home, how she would do anything for them.

Wavering slightly she quietly replied "I suppose I understand."

"Good, because I may require your assistance, nothing too major, small errands." He said nonchalantly, having no idea that the future had other plans for them.

"Me? What could I possibly do?" She said in a way so modest and insecure that it reminded Sherlock of Molly.

Eliza saw a flash of a frown before he stated "I have hired a few private investigators to collect information for me, as I have to remain hidden. I am telling you this because I have made your cafe a drop off point. You will collect packages, discretely, and bring them to me as soon as possible."

"Excuse me?" she replied in a sassy tone, placing a hand on her hip.

Sherlock leaned back, curiously confused. "I've offended you."

"Yes." she said with a slight frown. "You have no right to order me around like that" she stated calmly and then abruptly stood up and strode to the counter.

Sherlock's eyes followed her and he looked puzzled, thinking _Everyone always obeys me, ugh, women are impossible_. Sherlock then took a deep breath, his eyes closing as he said "_Would_ you collect the packages for me?"_  
_

From the counter, her back to him, she smiled slightly and then with convincing irritation in her voice she said "I'm not sure..." and bit her lip with pleasure.

With growing frustration Sherlock held in the urge to sigh bitterly and begged "_Please_?'

"Well, if you put it that way... " Eliza said, coming back over to him and unsuccessfully hiding her pleasure. "Sure" she finished, and handed him a cup of tea.

"Peppermint" Sherlock said, pleased enough that she remembered to not be angry.

"Sugar, milk and honey." She said as she set down a tray she had fetched from the counter.

"Honey?" Sherlock asked quizzically.

"You should try it, I prefer it to sugar." she said with a smile.

"I've always had my tea with two sugars." Sherlock stated.

"Sherlock Holmes, rejecting a chance to experiment, I think that's unheard of." Eliza teased.

"Fine" Sherlock said, plopping up from his seat and snatching the honey like a toddler throwing a tantrum. After pouring a spoonful in he stirred his tea, raised it in a cheers to Eliza, which she returned, and they both took a long sip.

"It's... _different_." Sherlock said.

"And?"

"It's satisfactory." he said, though when he lifted his mug again he smiled, pleased by the new sensation.

"As long as you're still alive Sherlock Holmes, you should try living a little." Eliza said with a nonchalant half smile, unknowingly sparking curiosity in the world's only consulting detective. "You had better go, I'm opening shop soon." Eliza said, checking the clock and rising. Sherlock stood, brushing off his trousers.

" I will need more tea at 8:00 exactly." He said as he started up the stairs.

"Eh-hem" Eliza coughed loudly, shooting Sherlock a look.

"_Please" _Sherlock pleaded with a loud exhale and eye-roll.

"Alright Sherlock" Eliza replied with a smile before he continued up the stairs and she re-opened the shop.

**Okay, I hope you like it so far.. I know there's not much mystery yet but go easy on me, I'm new at this.**

**Quick question, I am huge Sherlolly supporter but I definitely think Eliza and Sherlock (Ellock? Sherliza? I should have thought of this..) have a connection. So please leave a review with your thoughts on it, or the story, or predictions, anything that could potentially be helpful.**

**Sorry if this was a bit long.**

**Thanks for reading! 3 Eleora (that's my name ^.^ )**


	4. Deduction

Closing the shop for the last time that day, Eliza noticed something off with the bookshelf. Upon further inspection she found a manila envelope wedged in the pages of "Physical Organic Chemistry for the 21st Century". She realized this was probably a delivery for Sherlock, because who else would look in the pages of a chemistry book over tea. Then, overcome by curiosity, she ripped open the envelope. The first thing she pulled out was photograph obviously taken from a distance by the blurry nature of it. It depicted five men at a small table of what seemed to be a local pub, the man at the head of the table had a glass raised, a gesture commonly perceived as a toast. The photo was taken the day before, as indicated by the text in the lower left corner. She then picked out another image, it was of the man giving a toast, but this was a photo from security footage showing him exiting a building. The date on this was from a month earlier. The rest of the package contained various information about the men in the photo, Eliza was scanning the documents when she heard Sherlock start down the stairs and scrambled to put it back in the envelope.

"What are you-" Sherlock started but with a moment's glance he knew _exactly _what was going on and snatched the folder out of her hands.

"I did not ask you to open the packages." He growled, enunciating every syllable in a menacing way.

"You didn't have to, I do as I please." She replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Who is that?" She asked, pointing to the man raising the toast.

"_That _is Colonel Sebastian Moran, ex-military and now first-rate assassin and was Moriarty's right-hand. I have had him on my radar for awhile now, but have had no luck finding any regular hangouts or sighting locations..." He stated, fading once he got to the second picture of Moran. He then stormed upstairs in an apparent fit, completely ignoring Eliza who had run after him.

"Sherlock! Sherlock what is it?" She said in alarm as she swung open the door to his flat, that had automatically closed behind him. She found Sherlock on his knees, spreading papers and pictures of all sorts of things across the floor. She could tell by his rigid posture and the way he wildly was flinging papers to and fro that he was somehow very upset by the picture. She then slowly knelt down beside him, tilting her head in way that let her look him squarely in his face that was bent over his paperwork. Tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder he faced her and she whispered; "What's wrong?"

Sherlock was a bit stunned by the empathy in her brilliant hazel eyes that shone with gold specks by afternoon sunlight appearing through slits of the boarded up windows. He did not show this bewilderment though, and instead shouted with erratic gestures of his hands; "Here is this man, this man who with one word from Moriarty _would have shot MY_ _best friend _... and I have yet to succeed in finding him. Even if I did, I could not hunt him down and slaughter him like the animal he is." Before Eliza could say a word he had popped up and strode to his armchair and sat down, placing his fingers to his lips in a prayer-like stance. "Leave now, I'm going to my mind-palace." He commanded, as if everyone knew what a mind-palace was. Eliza opened her mouth to ask but then decided against it when she saw the look of pure concentration on his face. For once she would let his demand go, it was _his _flat after all. She turned to leave but before she exited she turned to him and said "We can focus on the others first." She then left, not noticing that Sherlock had opened an eye with intrigue as she closed the door._  
_

Arms loaded with supplies, Eliza stepped out of the office supply store and noticed a park only a few streets down. It was a lovely day for London, not much wind and no rain so she decided a walk for the last hour of her break would be nice, besides, she needed better company than a supposed ghost if she planned to live in London.

In an absent-minded bliss, she gazed at the clouds while walking aimlessly through a garden portion of the park. It was a glorious place being spring and all, bees buzzing and buds blooming in a dazzling dance. She closed her eyes to take in the elegant fragrance in this oasis from the dismal smelling city. Looking above at a cloud that she thought closely resembled an otter, her dreamy thoughts were interrupted as she collided with a man in a ebony fedora, sending the contents of her bag flying about .

"Holy! I-I'm so sorry, I should've been paying attention to where I was going." She said apologetically, clambering about as she picked up her purchases, eyes fixated on the ground.

"It's my fault, really, I do pray you accept my apologies Ms...?"

"El-" She said turning towards him, but then stopped abruptly, her mouth hanging open and pupils widening with horror. He was one of the men from the picture!

"Are you alright miss?" He asked with what Eliza thought for sure must be a fake concerned look.

Regaining her composure (High school theater was finally paying off) she shut her mouth and shook her head apologetically. Then stammered in a false sweetness "I'm so sorry, you look like someone I know back in America!" He then laughed and she joined in with a smile and very real nervousness.

"Well, I assure you I am not. My name is Grant Harrow..." There was an awkward pause, neither knowing what to do. "I still haven't caught your name." He said, looking into her eyes with a what would have been dashing smile.

"Oh yes! I'm Eliza, Eliza Oak." She said with shaky smile that he arrogantly interpreted as shyness.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance " He said leaning towards her, and it took all of Eliza's composure not to run when he took her hand and pressed it to his lips. She turned away in what seemed like a blush to Mr. Harrow as he stooped down to retrieve the last of her items.

"I would very much like to see you again." He said, holding her phone. "May I?" he asked with a smile.

_It would be rude, not to mention suspicious, if I turned him down._ She thought to herself and then quickly plastered a smile on her face saying "Of course!" He smiled again and typed (try transcribed) in his digits as Eliza fought off the growing feeling of nausea.

"Until we meet again." He said returning her phone and then, with a tip of his hat, he turned and strode off to the center of the park.

Eliza quickly turned back to the road, hailing down a cab as she thought _Are the cute ones always crazy in London?__  
_

**DUN DUN DAAAA! What will happen next? Only I know ;)**

**Thoughts or suggestions are taken into mind so please review and follow!**

**Thanks, Eleora ^.^**


	5. Seduction

**Don't worry, nothing M, barely even T.**

**Sorry this took awhile, been doing quite a bit of research.**

Eliza then burst through the door, assorted things spilling from her arms as she struggled to close it behind her.

"Sher-" She started to shout but saw Sherlock sitting in the armchair in the corner, out of street view, even though the blinds were closed. He had a finger pressed to his lips in a way that suggested her to be silent.

His green-blue eyes darted across the room, to and fro, as he analyzed the scene before him.

"Receipt paper, ink cartridges, order pads and pens, restocking the shop no doubt-"

"Sher-" Eliza started to sigh.

"Don't interrupt! Ahh, I see, you thought I didn't notice the rest. Honestly I thought you would know better by now... 4 small cork boards, red yarn and thumb tacks, one would first assume a travel board, being new to the country and all, but this is not _legally_ where you live so it must also be for the café. A new creative approach for the menu board perhaps?"

"Act-"

"But that still doesn't explain..." He began but then strode toward her, and with only inches between them gently plucked a single leaf from her hair. "_Ulmus glabra._.." He whispered in a way that, accompanied by the sunset, sent shivers down her spine when he looked into her eyes. He then noticed the obvious irritation that was deeper than just him being a smart-ass once again. "Something exciting happened in the park, something you are anxious to tell me. Besides tripping spill-"

"Sherlock!" She snapped, this time saying it with a sharpness that stopped his rambling. She then took a deep breath and calmly asked "Are you going to let me tell you what happened or not?"

Sherlock then did something unexpected; he placed his hands tenderly on her shoulders, looking her squarely in the eyes as he whispered "What happened?"

"I, quite literally, ran into Grant Harrow..." Eliza said and Sherlock released her, stepping backwards with surprise. He then returned to the armchair she had found him in, gesturing her to come sit as well.

"Tell me_ exactly_ what happened." Sherlock said after she sat down as he studied her with an almost uncomfortable intensity.

So she did, only pausing to say "thank you" when Sherlock handed her a cup of tea. When she had finished they sat silently for a minute, thinking about what to do. Seeing Sherlock deep in thought Eliza decided to unpack her things, there was no way she could re-open shop soon, with her nerves running haywire. The clattering in the cupboards brought Sherlock out of his mind-palace. He looked at her, a million thoughts swirling in his mind.

He had made many deductions about Eliza, but her bravery in front of an assassin who would undoubtedly kill her if he saw her with Sherlock, that was something that perplexed him. He flashed back to the night they first met, another display of her curious bravery. The past is a hard thing to deduce, especially when it comes to emotions. What had she been through? He could tell through the way she walked and talked that she had been a part of theater, which explained her ability to lie, but something about her deep empathy didn't add up. He had not seen evidence of any messages sent back home, a curious thing for someone so sociable. He mulled this over and studied her as she brought the last bag; the one with the yarn, tacks and cork boards, over to him.

"These are for you... I thought it could help you organize your information. We could set it up now if you wish." She said, nodding towards the stairs with a half-smile.

_We _Sherlock smiled, it was the first time someone had thought of him as a friend before he mentioned it. "An investigation map, this could prove helpful." He said as he ascended the stairs, Eliza on his heels. They then proceeded to build the 'map' quietly, only briefly questioning whether they should rearrange things for clearer connections. They worked for a good deal of time before Eliza finally brought herself to look at the man she had seen earlier that day. Just looking at the blurry image of his face created a wave of sickening cold that crashed over her. Her mind then took over, washing away her thoughts and drowning her in the terrifying experience that had occurred that afternoon. It wasn't the first time she had lied, but she had never done so to save her own life, she hoped it would be the last time.

"You should do it."

"Sorry?"

"Go on a date with him."

"A date? A _date? _Are you crazy?" Eliza said, a mixture of fear and frustration causing her voice be louder and higher than usual.

"Well, he's a handsome fellow, blond hair, blue-" Sherlock said mockingly, with a sarcastic smile and giddy little head nods that caused his obsidian curls to dance atop his head.

"Sherlock!" Eliza said with an exasperated gasp, turning towards him so violently strands of her tawny hair stuck to her lips. His smile instantly vanished when he saw her pained look, tears welling in the back of her eyes.

Eliza sniffed her tears in, "I just can't Sherlock, I know how much this means to you but... I just can't subject myself to this danger. I'm sorry..." she said as a single tear fell.

Sherlock tentatively cupped her face in his hand, using his thumb to gently wipe the tear off her cheek and brush the hair clinging to her lip aside as Eliza stood there petrified. He then slipped his hand under her chin, tilting her head up a tiny bit so his brilliant now ice-blue eyes could bore into her now vividly olive eyes, as he solemnly promised "I will not let _any_ harm come to you." Eliza released a breath she had not realized she was holding as she whispered "I believe you." She then quickly turned to their investigation map, letting Sherlock's hand fall to his side. "But we have to do a lot more research before I go have a drink with this... this... Whatever he is." she said hurriedly, hoping he wouldn't see the bit of color rushing to her cheeks.

"Of course." Sherlock stated casually, though he was perplexed by what had just happened. Regardless, he began researching Grant Harrow through his laptop, as if nothing happened.

Eliza knew _exactly _what had happened, it was just another one of those moments romanticized by her hormones. He had no interest in her, no matter what she was starting to feel for him, right? Seeing Sherlock get to work, she whipped out her smart phone and began doing her own research as she settled into Sherlock's armchair.

After scrolling through page after useless page on the web Sherlock closed the laptop and shook his hair, trying to stimulate his brain.

_Coffee_

"El-" Sherlock started as he swiveled toward her, but then quickly stopped as he saw Eliza sleeping, hand drooped lazily over the arm of his chair, still clutching her phone. With one fluid movement Sherlock checked his watch as he stood, it was 1 AM, he had kept her up far too late. He smiled slightly then, realizing how she was giving her time, and risking her life, to help him. Sacrificing her much needed and precious sleep as she did so. He then tenderly picked her up, holding her as carefully as one would hold a priceless porcelain doll, and cautiously carried her down the stairs. Gingerly placing her on the sofa, he began to release her when she grabbed him.

In sleepily slurred speech she mumbled "Don't go... please don't go... I've...I've missed you."

Her arm then fell and she returned to her deep sleep, leaving a pained Sherlock with even more unanswered questions.

**I know you are probably mentally screaming "WHAT?" **

**Mwahaha, don't worry dearie, you will see.**

**That was über creepy, anyway; comments, corrections, concerns? Please review!**

**Thanks for reading, Eleora**


	6. Preperations

**No copyright infringement intended.**

Eliza awoke with a dull ache in her chest. Her dreams were a bittersweet torture, the blissful memories smothered by the sadness of knowing it could never happen again. She would give _everything_ for those times, for him. Snapping back into reality she wiped away a tear from the ghost of her dream and then she realized where she was. An intractable smile spread across her face as it wasn't hard to deduce how she got back to her 'bed'. _At least I have him _she thought with a smile as she stood to start the day.

X*~X*~X*~X*~X*~X*~X*~X*~X*~X*~X*~X*~X*~X

Closing The Tea Cozy for the first time that day Eliza anxiously turned off the lights and ran up stairs, phone in hand. She lightly knocked on the door and it was immediately opened by Sherlock. "Tsk. Tsk. You should _really_ be more observant, go back down and get the package under the couch." he commanded and then immediately closed the door.

_How... _She thought but quickly just shook her head with a smile, the mind of Sherlock Holmes was perhaps the biggest mystery of all. She then rushed down the stairs, immediately noticing and retrieving a black cardboard box from beneath the couch. _Ugh! How did I not notice that before! It must be my nerves... _she thought, reminiscing the night before. They had decided that today Eliza would text their current target; Grant Harrow. She would ask him to have dinner with her at a nice restaurant a few blocks from her shop, giving her a good escape option if things got.. complicated. During the date she would slyly ask previously agreed upon questions so Sherlock could deduce underlying messages about Grant and his 'friends'. Pushing the door to Sherlock's flat open with her hip she turned to him, box in hands, as he gestured with obvious lack of interest to the floor at the foot of his armchair that he was occupying.

"You told me to get it and now you don't want to open it?" She said in an exasperated voice.

"At the moment I want you to be more attentive, you need to learn to divorce yourself from your emotions if you are going to be any use to me." He responded with equal irritation in his voice and sharp hand gestures, as was his fashion.

"I can't just get rid of my feelings Sherlock, believe me when I say I have tried to." She sighed, a hint of sadness in her eyes. Too many times today her wounds of heartbreak had been reopened.

"Try harder." Sherlock replied hotly.

"What is with you? You are even more grumpy than usual." She replied with her usual good-natured smile as she positioned her self 'criss-cross apple sauce' on the floor across from him. After a moment of silence from Sherlock her smile disappeared, "What's wrong?" she asked in a concerned tone.

"You aren't ready. You're scared and unprepared." he stated, opening his eyes and staring at her as he said it.

"What? Yes I am scared, you would be absolutely crazy if you weren't nervous around someone of his profession! But I am totally prepared! I've memorized the questions, studied body language like you asked, and picked out an appropriate outfit! I've even practiced some nonchalant getaway lines if something doesn't feel right! I am confident in my preparations and am as ready as I will ever be to do this!" She said angrily, making wild gestures that completely distracted her from the smile that had slowly spread across his face during her rant.

"I had to make sure, and since you insist..." He said, resuming his usual calculating expression as he pointed to the box between them.

"For me?" Eliza asked with an excited smile.

"Yes, as an asset to our operation of course." He stated.

"Of course." Eliza said with slight disappointment, but then gasped upon opening the box. Inside was a gorgeous deep plum dress, a color she could have sworn she had seen Sherlock wear the other day. It was sleeveless with fabric draping from each shoulder to create a modest, asymmetrical V neckline that soon met a thick, black satin belt. The skirt loosely flowed out from under it, ending just above the knee.

"Sherlock.. it's stunning!Thank you!" She said with amazement as she held it up and then hugged it. Looking into the box again she noticed a small sort of jewelry box and another sort of shoebox that was unmarked. "What's this?" She asked, indicating the other boxes.

"_This _is mine." He said picking up the shoebox sized parcel and slid it under his chair. "And _this _is also for you." he said handing the jewelry box to Eliza. She opened it, discovering a pair of earrings shaped like roses that were the same purple as her dress, with a little stone in the center of each blossom.

"These are specially equipped earrings, the right one containing a camera and tracking device and the left embedded with a microphone and transmitter so I can watch and hear everything that goes on." He said as she inspected them.

"Amazing! How on Earth do you afford all this?" She asked blissfully.

"Calling in a few favors from the undead." He said in a tone so serious that she knew it must be slightly true, besides, he can't be the only one in the world that has faked their death. "Are you ready?" He asked gesturing to the lump in her pocket where her phone was resting.

"Yep." She replied, taking out her phone and quickly texting their target:

**Hey, it's Eliza, from the** **park.**

**I was beginning to think you would never text ;) - GH**

**Sorry, I've been busy moving in. I was wondering if you are free tonight. - EO**

**Actually I am, did you have something in mind? - GH**

**Well, I've heard great things about Lippincott's on Wells Street. - EO**

**Sounds wonderful. I am off at 8, where should I pick you up? - GH**

**How about we meet there at 8:30? - EO**

**It's a date. - GH**

**See you then! - EO**

"All set, we are exactly on schedule!" Eliza said excitedly, turning to Sherlock with a wide grin, "I am about to go on a date with a mob member... and I'm excited about it" she laughed to herself, quickly growing embarrassed as he just sat there looking at her with that intense expression he always wore.

"What's in the box?" she asked.

"Things."

"What sorts of 'things'?"

"A portal to Wonderland." He said with a straight face, looking at the investigation board. Upon meeting eyes they burst out in a fit of giggles.

"Sherlock Holmes made a joke, well, the world is certainly full of surprises." Eliza said beaming, wiping a tear from her right eye.

"Indeed." Sherlock replied, a small smile across his face too. _Let's just hope we aren't too surprised tonight _he thought as they started going over the questions again, just in case.

X*~X*~X*~X*~X*~X*~X*~X*~X*~X*~X*~X

**So I was planning on getting to the date this chapter but I guess I got carried away, anyway I hope you liked it. I tried to add some happy Sherlock in this chapter since they are becoming friends, I think a lot of people forget joking, sarcastic Sherlock. If you have I recommend going back and watching the part where Sherlock and John are at Buckingham Palace, it's great every time. **

**Thanks again!**

**Eleora ^.^**


	7. The Date

**Sorry it's been awhile, guess I'm preparing us for the school year. Hope you like this one.**

_It's just a first date, nothing to be nervous about._ Eliza thought, unsuccessfully trying to calm her nerves. Everyone gets nervous before a first date, fear of immediate rejection, humiliation, failure, and in this case, murder. _Focus _she scolded herself, sliding on the dress Sherlock had presented to her earlier that day. It hugged her slight curves to a tee, as if made exactly for her, accentuating her thin figure modestly and giving her a boost in confidence. With a slight sigh she carefully brushed on a bit of mascara and lilac eyeshadow, loathing the creamy texture. She hated dressing up, the work, the stress, the pressures of society defining beautiful for her, but when she did dress up... Damn, she looked good. Not the average pretty, and definitely not beautiful, but good.

Stepping out of the small bathroom she made her way to behind the counter where her shoes sat, waiting in anticipation of the night to come. Stripes of the sunset peered through the windows, conforming to the contour of her face as she stepped back into the living room, where Sherlock sat across from the entryway, eyes closed and ivory fingertips pressed to his chin, just grazing his lower lip, in his usual thinking pose. He was wearing the shirt, the dark violet one that matched her outfit perfectly and accented his onyx locks, he looked so peaceful. She smiled before whispering "Sherlock?" His eyes immediately flashed open, instantly taking in her change of wardrobe.

"Yes?" He asked.

Eliza sighed,"I-I'm nervous." _and I guess I don't look so good_.

"Don't be." he said and then strode toward her until they were inches apart. Staring into her eyes the consulting detective tentatively raised his hand, only glancing away for a second to gently brush her hair behind her ear before returning to gaze into her wide eyes. _Thump-thump thump-thump, _Eliza's heart pounded inside her chest as her lips parted slightly. Sherlock then swiftly dove in, tilting his head to the side and- turned on the earring before quickly backing away again and turning toward the open laptop that sat on the coffee table.

"It's on now." Sherlock stated while he fiddled with her laptop. Eliza quietly released a breath she did not realize she was holding. _Stupid girl, why would he ever like you? _her mind taunted, slumping her shoulders as it did so. _Focus _she scolded herself and quickly straightened up, plastering a smile across her face as she said, "Good. Would you hand me my scarf please?"

He picked up the scarf and held it out to her, never even looking up from the screen until she yanked it out of his hand with a hint of hostility. It was her favorite scarf, an elegant patch-work of different indigo stitches woven together into something unique and beautiful. It was perfectly her, and she knew so the second she saw it, and so did he... _Focus _she thought, tipping her head back as if swallowing the memories that threatened to suffocate her. Sherlock studied her as she put on the scarf with the look of a lost puppy, what had he done to offend her? He let it go for now, instead asking "Do you remember the plan?"

"Of course." she said, slipping on her flats, jacket and purse before walking to the entrance.

"Remember..." Sherlock stated, stopping Eliza halfway through exiting the shop, she leaned back, waiting briefly for an end that never came before slamming the door shut. Sherlock stood there for a moment, paralyzed by the fact that he himself did not quite know what he was about to say.

~x*X*x~x*X*x~x*X*x~x*X*x~x*X*x~

Eliza tugged the hem of her skirt nervously as the waiter led her to the table where Grant Harrow sat waiting in pastel blue dress shirt and khaki pants, the same silky black fedora resting on the back of his chair. Upon seeing her he greeted her with a broad grin that created dimples in his clean-shaven face, and rose as she was seated._ You can do this, just act casual, you've done it many times before _she told herself, sitting with a smile plastered on and allowing Grant to push in her chair as he said "You look ravishing this evening Eliza."

"Thank you, you're such a gentleman!" she replied, still smiling and tucking her hair back so Sherlock could see. _I hope he heard that, even if he is just a friend he should learn to be gracious _she thought as she opened the menu.

"Everything looks so wonderful, you have picked a perfect place." Grant said after grazing over the menu for a few moments.

"It does." Eliza replied, setting down the menu as she did so. Then, remembering her reading on body language, she tilted her head slightly and set her forearms on the table, leaning in with hands loosely clasped and facing him as she asked "So tell me about yourself Grant, what is it that you do for a living?"

"I'm a traveling nurse, it's sort of a supply teacher for nursing, going all over England to whatever hospital I am needed at. Nothing exciting." He responded automatically in a nonchalant manner, very believable. "What about you?" He asked, leaning in as well with equal interest and a sort of laid back, arrogant posture.

"Oh, I run a tea and coffee shop, very boring. All sorts of characters though. I'm sure you know what's that like though." she responded pleasantly, instantly leading her date into an entertaining story about one of his patients.

The night continued almost pleasantly, with a fantastic meal and sharing stories. Eliza hit most of the questions before giving up, this guy was obviously very experienced in lying or perhaps did do this nursing thing on the side. Either way she had practically forgotten her mission as the night wound down, even sharing a desert in the candle light. _It's amazing how people can do horrible things, yet, be so charming. And I thought normal guys were liars _she thought to herself as he put on his sports coat and hat before helping her into her own jacket. Opening the door for her and using an umbrella to shelter her from the pouring rain Eliza whispered "Thank you."

"My pleasure." He whispered back, so gently as he stared into her eyes. Tenderly sliding his free hand into hers Grant searched her face, his blue eyes shining in the moonlight. He then closed his eyes and slowly leaned forward, mouth parted slightly. Realizing what was happening Eliza quickly but softly placed a finger to his lips, as if to shush him. "Good things come to those who wait." she said in a quiet way, so seductive it surprised her and she smiled. He backed up, frowning and with what almost looked like a flash of anger in his eyes. But he quickly smiled "So there will be another time?"

"If the traveling nurse can take time out of his adventures. Then we will see." She said teasingly with grin, remembering to bite her lip in a flustered manner.

"Well I am quite busy this next week but if you would like I am attending a darts tournament with a few friends on Friday. It's a local pub we like." He said before scanning the street for a cab.

_Friends? Pub? As in blurry-photograph-serial-killer-drunks friends and pub? Oh god, what do I do? I don't want to make him angry, say something sexy and neutral. _She thought, silently freaking out. "I'll check my schedule." she decided on, giving him a (hopefully) hot half-smile. He smiled back and said "I'll await your call." and then led her to the cab he hailed down.

"Thank you for tonight." She said politely, squeezing his hand in a false affectionate way. He took it and pressed it to his lips, making her blush for real as he said "Until next time." and released her. She jumped into the cab, anxiously awaiting Sherlock's deductions and whatever the future held.

**I know this isn't my best work. Sorry. Honestly I have never been on a date so idk. Any way please review, it makes the whole process much more worthwhile!**

**Thanks for reading, Eleora ^.^**


	8. Stupid Savant

Stepping inside of the familiar cafe Eliza immediately shook off the pellets of rain clinging to her black peacoat. After placing her jacket on the rack she looked about curiously, having not seen or heard the ex-consulting detective since entering. She found him sitting in the dark, yet again in that odd thinking pose, laptop powered down on the table beside him. He looked almost.. troubled, with his brows so intensely furrowed, sometimes slightly jerking his head as if his eyes were open and he was searching for something e couldn't find. Taking another step towards him the floorboard underneath her creaked, promptly causing Sherlock's now steely gray eyes to flash open.

"You're back." He said in a stale manner.

"Yes, weren't you watching?" She replied pointing to her earring, confused that he wasn't telling her about his deductions on the evening's events.

"Turned it off when you got in the cab."

"And?..."

"You weren't helpful, nothing I couldn't deduce by seeing him. Except the violent tendencies." He said bluntly with a bit of a shrug.

"Well I'm glad that's over." Eliza sighed, plopping into the armchair opposite of him as she took off her earrings.

"No it's not." He stated in a matter-of-fact manner. Squinting at her as if to say _Why on Earth would you think that?_

"What? Oh no, I am not doing this again." She said, nonchalantly shaking her head and taking off her shoes with smile that instantly vanished when she looked back up at him. "You can't be serious."

"I assure you I am completely serious." He said intensely and then ferociously ruffled his hair "This is the biggest lead I've had in months." He spat angrily, intensely shaking his open hands in a frustrated manner .

"Can we just review what you have told me about this guy; mob member, assassin,_ and_ has violent tendencies! I am _not_ going to let you play matchmaker while MY LIFE is on the line!" Eliza retorted with venomous sassiness, counting off the offenses and then standing with a huff of frustration, fists slightly clenched in agitation.

"There is much more than just _your_ life on the line Eliza, there are four known people, people _I_ care about, affected by this organization right now, then there's the family and friends of the three hostages when Moriarty decide to toy with me, and don't forget the boy he murdered many years ago for teasing him." He said rising, with every slight pause moving closer and closer to her and slowly increasing in sharpness and lunacy with every syllable.

Eliza unclenched her fists, releasing her white knuckles, and sighed. Looking at him in the eye, unmoving she sternly stated "Sherlock I do want to help, but, think of what could happen! What if he gets mad at me and had me hunted down and assassinated. I, your only communication to the outside world, would die and your cover would be blown. And hanging out with his 'friends'? One of them could easily suspect me or they could mug me or rape me even!" She paused slightly, shaking her head apologetically as she pleaded "I- I can't, I'm sorry but I really mean it this time... I can tell him I still have feelings for a guy in America-"

"That wouldn't be a lie would it? Of course it's not..."

"What?! How does that-"

"Irrelevant! _Obviously _you don't care, you just do it for fun and the second it gets inconvenient you back out like the _coward_ you are!"

"How dare you! _You_ are being so self-centered! I am _not _a coward and even as the genius as you are you do not know me in the slightest!"

"Then do it! Prove it!"

Eliza paused at that looking down but then violently shook her head, mouth contorting in disgust as she whispered "... You manipulative, cold-blooded snake! You almost had me for a second there, you really did. I owe you nothing Sherlock Holmes! I have no obligation towards you!" She screamed the last part, blinking back the tears that were threatening to overflow from her eyes as she abruptly turned around and stomped off. Grabbing her belongings once again she hurriedly slid them on and stormed out the door and into the pouring rain, letting it slam behind her without a glance towards the detective who had bounded off to his flat simultaneously.

~x*X*x~x*X*x~x*X*x~x*X*x~x*X*x~

"Umm... A pina colada please." She said, finding a seat at one of the bar stools. _What am I doing? I should just go.. _Eliza thought, feeling uncomfortable with the heavy stares of a group of exceedingly intoxicated men in the corner upon her. Taking a huge, nervous gulp of the fruity drink the bartender had just handed her she proceeded to undo her scarf- accidentally punching an alarmingly patterned cardigan that was briskly walking by, almost knocking the wearer down until Eliza steadied her .

"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! I was just-" Eliza said, fumbling to stand up and fawning over her with worried hand gestures.

"Oh no, it's my fault! I'm terribly sorry, I should have been looking where I was going, I'm dreadfully clumsy..." The slightly wounded stranger replied cheerily.

Eliza looked at her, it was evident from her slightly pruned hands, khaki pants, modest makeup and sturdy watch that she had recently been let off of work.

"Are you here all by yourself?" the cafe manager asked the petite woman before her, admiring her ginger hair and sweet personality that she herself had lost over the years.

"Yeah, I just really need a break from my job. I've barely had a moment to myself lately!" She said cheerily, but Eliza knew that smile, the one you wear when you don't want to bother others with your sadness. The one you paint on when people ask if you're okay, even though you feel alone and confused. The one you force when you make up an excuse for your watery eyes.

With a genuine smile Eliza motioned next to her "Well if you want you can be alone with me." Then looking up she nodded to her left and whispered "_Plus I'm a bit worried about being alone with those idiots 'on the prowl'."__  
_

They then burst out in laughter, her new friend responding "Men are such idiots..." she frowned slightly "Especially the smart ones... Oh my! That must sound silly..."

"No, not at all." Eliza responded with a superficial half smile. _I know exactly what you mean_ she thought as she extended her arm in a handshake to her bar partner "I'm Eliza Oak by the way."

Returning the handshake she responded pleasantly "Gosh! Where are my manners, I'm Molly, Molly Hooper."

~x*X*x~x*X*x~x*X*x~x*X*x~x

**W****oah! **

**Wait Sherlock didn't mention that to Eliza did he?**

**O.O**

**I feel this chapter is bad, I'm sorry, I wanted to get the two major things in.**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW AND TELL ALL YOUR FANDOM FRIENDS AND SPREAD THE LOVE!**

**It is super encouraging.**

**As always, Thanks for reading! - Eleora ^.^**


	9. The Painful Puzzle

**Sorry this took so long, been doing research for the next chapter, it's going to be a doozy! Enjoy!**

Asleep in her clothes Eliza slid off the couch, causing a loud thud that, accompanied by the pain, woke her with a start. Mumbling curses she rubbed her now-sore back, immediately hearing feet rush down the stairs as the memories of last night came rushing back. Sherlock then burst into the room, wearing his signature periwinkle robe and gun in hand, ready to strike as he quickly scanned the cafe. Upon realizing it was only Eliza falling out of her makeshift bed he clicked his tongue irritably, letting his arm with the loaded gun drop lazily to the side "Oh, it's just _you._" he hissed sassily. He then strode over to the counter, taking out supplies for tea gruffly, completely ignoring Eliza as she watched him with shocked curiosity. Stumbling upward she stood and walked over to Sherlock, tentatively placing a hand on his arm before toying with her scarf and looking down, completely missing his slightly shocked expression as he studied her.

"Sherlock... I'm sorry about the other night I... I'm just not ready to talk about it...him yet." She whispered, ghosts of tears swimming in her eyes.

"Oh no, you don't have to..." He jeered menacingly, his face contorting as he enunciated every syllable and she frowned, confused.

"You rarely email or send post, meaning you either don't know this person very well or something bad has happened between you two, and judging by the way you said 'I've missed you' in an incubus state I'm guessing it was the latter." He spat, cold and unyielding to Eliza's now watery eyes.

"Obviously I am right so far, I'm sure you know what gave that away." He smirked, now spiraling quickly into cruelty.

"Stop it." Eliza whispered sadly.

Leaning in with an evil grin he rapidly sneered "Sorry _dear, _I'm not done yet. You were reminded of this person by the way I carried you down the stairs the night you fell asleep in my chair, a gesture that, under normal and awake circumstances, can be associated with _love_ and trust. And it must have been a superb love and even harder loss at that, considering your far off gazes, your blatant trust issues and the way you adore that scarf. It is undoubtedly a gift from this man, considering it smells faintly of cologne and has evidently not been washed in a very long time, probably since it was bought, even though that was _many_ years ago. Also you always toy with it, careful not to pull the edges and fray it with that conflicted smile on your face."

He paused, seeming to enjoy his deductions, as they grew exponentially in his mind. "So now the only question is what exactly happened between you two. You're not bitter about it even though it happened recently according to the previously stated quirks and how you said 'yet' instead of that you don't want to or don't trust me. But more curiously is how you are not bitter but always seem to snap at me, even though it is clear that you are usually a very calm and sympathetic person from the way you always apologize..." Sherlock then stopped his expression then softening as the dots connected and he stepped backward with a blink and slight turn of head before looking down, his eyes and mind searching for a different explanation.

"Almost there, _was it worth it_?" she hissed, tears sliding to the floor as memories replaced them. "Go on say it, proclaim your genius victory, the answer you finally figured out. Always _just _about the answer with you isn't it?" She said with a bitter laugh as the tears flowed down.

"The man was your father, he passed away..." Sherlock stated grimly, a look of regret only two people before her had seen. He looked at Eliza then, a deep remorse that was uncommon for him growing as he watched her face distort painfully as she tried to stop the sobs that violently shook her body. He tentatively reached toward her arm, stroking it slightly with tips of his fingers with a gentleness that made her look up at him through glassy eyes.

"I'm sorry Eliza, please forgive me." He said quietly looking her in the eyes. Something about the way he said it, the way he was looking at her now with pain in his eyes, she knew he really meant it. She tried to smile at him but the shaky, fabricated result was flimsy as another tear fell and she hid her face behind her hands. Sherlock then turned to the counter, producing a jar of individually wrapped Galaxy chocolates from it and setting it on the counter. Tenderly prying her hands from her face he cupped it, using his thumb to brush a tear that was cascading down, his hand resting longer than it needed to on her damp skin. As she calmed down he held up a chocolate that rested in his hand in a way that resembled presenting a peace offering. Taking in a deep breath, a small half smile flashed across her face when she reached to accept the comforting sweet.

"Thank-"

"Don't, I'm trying to apologize... If we botch this up I'm going to have to buy you jewelry or something." He said with a smile and they laughed as they opened their chocolates and started to indulge. Seeing Sherlock head to the trash Eliza exclaimed "Wait!" and the consulting detective whipped around, facing her, puzzled.

"You have to read it out loud, the wrapper. It's like a fortune cookie." She explained, smoothing her's out.

Sherlock opened his mouth to protest _That's absurd, there's no way a chocolate wrapper knows my life... Even if the manufacturer was stalking me the probability... _he thought. But he decided against it, he wouldn't want to hurt Eliza's feelings again.

"'Do not look back and ask why, look forward and ask, why not?"' Eliza read and then smiled, _How appropriate, these always cheer me up._ She thought and then looked at Sherlock expectantly.

Sherlock then smoothed his own out, read it, and crinkled it up again, setting it on the counter as he said "' Shopping is always great therapy."' He then looked at the clock "You should be opening soon, I'll leave you to get ready. I don't believe you will need instruction for Friday." He said referring to Eliza's next "date", and briskly turned and walked up the stairs without a goodbye.

_Something is off... _Eliza thought, picking up both wrappers and opening the garbage bin.

_I wonder..._ she thought, opening his wrapper and reading;

"'Just being there and listening is love.'"

**For those of you who don't live in the UK _Galaxy Chocolate _(no copyright infringement intended) is by the _Dove _chocolate manufacturers.**

**Also you all should go back and see how much foreshadowing I used in lead up to this chapter.**

**I put in so much effort, a little review or follow or question wouldn't hurt, would it?**

**I am so excited for the next chapter :D**

**Thanks for Reading! - Eleora ^.^**


	10. Round 2

Eliza had decided to go more casual for this one, it was only a dart tournament at the pub after all. Tightly buckling a wide black leather belt over her loose forest green top that gracefully flowed over her black and white print trousers she examined herself in the mirror. _Not bad _she thought with a smile, of course there were numerous flaws glaring back at her from the looking glass but she shook them away. _Think positive, nobody's perfect _she thought, trying to encourage herself because she knew that the owner of the footsteps coming towards her would be no help. She backed out of the small bathroom and turned to see Sherlock sitting in the chair across the way, already studying her as she walked towards him. Sitting down and pulling on her black lace up boots she realized he was looking at her funny.

"What?" She said and then stood as he rose from his chair and strode toward her, whipping out a small box.

"You forgot your earrings." He replied, the strange look vanishing from his eyes as he opened the box.

"Here." He said, tenderly pulling back her hair and gently putting them on her as her breath shook. As he pulled back she saw that odd look in his eyes again as he stared into hers.

"What is it? That look?" She said with a fake irritated tilt of her head and nervously pulling her hair back in front of her ears.

"You're wearing eye-shadow." He stated, studying the green-gold makeup that she had carefully placed on her eyelids.

"Girls tend to do that when they go on dates." Eliza said sarcastically, walking to the counter and snatching her purse from it, back to him.

"Well it suits you, brings out the green in your eyes." He remarked slowly with a small smile.

A smile flashed across Eliza's face but was immediately replaced by a blank expression that, under close inspection, could be read as sadness. _He's just manipulating me, using encouragement to get what he wants _she thought. Avoiding his eyes as she mumbled "Thanks" and walked out, leaving Sherlock questioning his previous deductions and peculiar thoughts.

x*X*x~x*X*x~x*X*x~x*X*x~x*X*x

_Just breathe. _Eliza thought as she took in a deep breath and stepped into the small London pub. It was crowded and there was a veil of smoke that reminded one of London's frequent fogs but her eyes immediately met Grant's as he took off his hat and rose to greet her with a smile, which she returned with fake joy.

"You look as lovely as ever." He said, once again taking her hand and kissing it with a single suave gesture after he walked over, as she replied her thanks. He then offered her the arm of his cobalt blue sport coat, which she accepted cheerfully and with masked anxiety. He led her to a booth at the back of the bar where two other men sat, two other men whose photos hung on a corkboard map covered in a web of red strings and mystery, two dangerous men on Sherlock's hit list.

"Eliza this is Phil and Robert, my mates. Mates, meet Eliza." He said, gesturing to each in turn and sliding his hand into Eliza's as they said their "hello"s. If it wasn't for the blurry photos of these men depicting them as some of London's most treacherous that she had first seen only last week they would have looked like decent men. They were clean-shaven, dressed casually, Phil having a geeky and methodical appearance and Robert being obviously more built and tough looking, having on a motorcycle jacket and being covered in tattoos. After a little bit of casual conversation and a drink or two each they giggled as the boys bragged about their upcoming tournament.

"I've been practicing daily Grant, you better have your best game face on!" Robert roared with a snickering smile.

"That must have hurt your social life, oh wait... You don't have one!" Grant retorted, causing even more laughter.

"It's really all about the physics, the trajectory angle, momentum -" Phil started rambling.

"Science won't help your aim!" Robert smirked.

"Well boys why don't we settle this!" Grant said, rising and gesturing to the dart board in the corner. They nodded their agreement and with new-found competitive zeal the party strode towards the wooden battle field. Grabbing the darts Grant immediately took position on the red duct-tape line on the floor.

"Oi! You can't practice on the red line!" Robert yelled in a commanding but still friendly tone.

"Ha! Practice is for amateurs! Gentleman- and my lovely lady- prepare to be amazed!" He said with grand gestures and dramatic confidence. With a final wink at Eliza and a deep breath the dart whizzed through air, straight and true, and struck the board with a glorious _Whap! _

"Hahaha! Some shot!" Robert ridiculed with some rude gestures as Phil laughed.

"Solid 8!" Phil jeered and Eliza struggled to suppress a giggle as she gave the now partially frustrated Grant a sympathetic smile. He smiled back and then retorted "That's _exactly _where I wanted it to go!" and the group broke out in laughter at his dramatic and goofy flourishes once again. The tournament continued with Grant having deadly accuracy, with most shots being a bulls-eye. With Robert being close, losing by only 50 points and Phil being absolutely miserable comparatively. After a victorious (and slightly awkward for her) hug between Eliza and Grant and new drinks for their cheers, the group settled down for more discussion.

"So did you guys check out those books I recommended?" Phil said when the conversation had died down in a quieter but still casual tone.

"I didn't get around to them, did you Grant?" Robert shrugged, gazing intensely at Grant. Eliza felt uneasy as she noticed the guys' fidgety movements and slightly roaming eyes. So she stayed quiet as Grant cheerily replied "I have yet to get _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets _but I am enjoying _The Silver Chair _." He had absolutely no sign of anxiety about him and even looked embarrassed as he turned to Eliza and said with a laugh "Now you know my dirty secret, I am part of a man book club that reads Children's books." The group laughed as Eliza thought _Seriously? That's your dirty secret? _but took his hand and caressed it with her thumb.

"Waitress!" Grant called and one of the barmaids rushed over, maneuvering expertly in her high heels.

"How may I help you sir?" She asked with a wide smile that was slightly pulled down by exhaustion.

"More ice for these gentlemen's' Gin please." He asked with a cheery grin at his comrades. The waitress took the glasses quickly, but Eliza caught a glimpse of the them, still reasonably full of ice.

After they had finished their Gins Grant checked his watch and sighed before smiling and saying "Well gentleman it's been a pleasure as always but I have a tube to catch soon. See you Saturday." He then tipped his hat to his colleagues as they said their goodbyes and Grant gently grabbed Eliza's wrists and led her out of the pub, his grip loose but still firm.

"Friday?" She asked with what she hoped was a mischievously flirty grin.

"Yes, unfortunately the boys refused to let you tag along in the thrilling world of Chess Tournaments." He grinned and Eliza laughed, her hand now interlocked with his as they walked, swinging their arms lazily as they did so. He stopped abruptly, causing Eliza, who had already stepped forward, to turn abruptly into him. He smiled at her, who was now in his arms, and whispered "I think I'm falling for you Eliza Oak." He then put one strong hand on her face, turning it up towards him while sliding his other hand carefully to her modest upper waist and leaned in. Feeling uncomfortable because of more than his hidden profession Eliza struggled out of his grip "Grant-"

"Dammit Eliza, what does a man have to do to win you over?" He said, his voice slightly raised and his fists clenched tightly as he turned around and stomped like an angry toddler."

Eliza gulped before gently stroking his sleeve with her hand "He has to be patient, to prove he wants me." She said softly, but it did not soothe him and he shook her off with a rough jerk of his shoulder that ran into hers.

Realizing what he had done he immediately whipped around and his muscles relaxed as he loosely grabbed her shoulders, searching her eyes for an apology as he whispered "Eliza I'm so sorry, please forgive me... It's my bloody temper, I'm sure it's just because I've had a few drinks-" _Liar, no it's not _she thought, reading his expressions as he kept talking " I swear Eliza, it will never happen again." he ended, shaking his head and letting her go.

"Oh Grant, I believe you." she whispered, tentatively placing a quick kiss on his cheek before squeezing his hand and walking away with a smile that instantly vanished as soon as she rounded the corner. She then leaned against the brownstone and placed a hand on her racing heart and thought _Good thing I am a better liar than him_ before slumping down and squeezing her hair out of frustration. _What have I gotten myself into? _her mind screamed once again as a tear rolled down. _Stop it _she thought and sniffed in the tears that threatened to well out of eyes. Placing her hands over he nose and mouth she took a deep breath, collecting herself before finding a cab to head home.

**I am so sorry this took forever, real life stuff.. blah.**

**I know (hope) you're dying for more and I promise the next chapter will be up much sooner, I've already started it.**

**Please Follow and Review, it truly makes it more worth it.**

**Thanks for reading, Eleora ^.^**


	11. Friends?

Stepping through the door into the pleasantly aromatic but unlit cafe Eliza looked nervously around for Sherlock, but did not see him. She then noticed the sound of water running amidst the noises from the street. Making her way to the counter she noticed a strange smell, almost like vinegar mixed with a strong window cleaner and bleach. "Sherlock?" She asked, her voice tinted with fear as heard a strange _Schrum Schrum _noise coming from where she approximated the sink was.

"Wait don't-" Sherlock started but was stopped mid-command by the lights flicking on. The scene before her caused Eliza to gasp and then giggle with a sympathetic smile. What was probably the most brilliant man alive stood before her, trying with awful precision to cut _and_ dye his own hair, in the dark. Unsuccessfully covering her grin while smoothing her eyebrow she closed her eyes as she shook her head asked "Why?"

"Just in case." he responded plainly and her smile vanished as realization dawned on her.

"Well let me help you at least." She replied, coming around the counter and gingerly prying the scissors he was using to butcher his long onyx curls out of his fingers. As she instructed him to lean over so she could rinse his hair Sherlock began "Obviously they were communicating about their next meeting through their conversation about books judging from their fidgety movements, roaming eyes and vocal inflections-"

Sherlock was cutoff by the water from the sink's hose. "Yeah, and Phil seemed warmer, pulling at his tie and color rising into his face." Eliza began, squirting shampoo into her hands before starting to massage his scalp.

_Brilliant! I hadn't even noticed him becoming flushed, probably just the quality of the camera but still, she's starting to become more attentive. _Sherlock thought, taking a deep breath. He could smell her cheap toasted vanilla perfume as it mixed with the green tea shampoo and cozy aromas of the cafe. The warm water was quite calming, he could almost feel his prefrontal cortex relax as the dopamine and alpha waves rippled through his brain as she rubbed the tips of her fingers on his integument. _Why is my cardiac cycle increasing then? _he questioned, simultaneously questioning the sickly feeling in his throat and then began to assess himself for illness.

Eliza felt Sherlock's ears lift in what must have been an unconscious smile from her deductions. It was a great feeling, him noticing her accomplishments and the familiar feeling of wet hair in her fingers as she rinsed it, she had helped her friends with their locks in college since it was too expensive for a nice haircut. _Not exactly what I had in mind when I wished to run my fingers through his hair- Stop it! _she scolded herself. _He doesn't think like that, especially not towards me. _

"But how do those books communicate when or where or what the meeting is? I mean those are two of the most famous books out there!" Eliza asked, diverting her attention to something, anything else.

"There are many possibilities, they could special copies of the books, black-out decoders fit to the pages, they could be code phrases- unlikely though, considering an operation of their size would be constantly changing their methods of passing information. Perhaps reference to a website?- too risky. Lets ignore that for now, were there any other possible clues? Think! Any unusual thing could reveal a hidden message." Sherlock commanded, he had concluded that whatever virus was attacking his cells was minor, considering he didn't have a fever or any considerable symptoms.

Eliza thought for a moment as she raised the scissors, picturing the detective with rocker spikes or with a blonde 'Bieber helmet'. "Well when he called the waitress over after discussing the books he asked for more ice, but I saw the glasses, they had plenty."

"Good. Ice is slang for meth and diamonds, but considering the scale of their operation petty theft or trafficking is unlikely. When I figure out the book reference I'm sure the involvement of 'ice' will become clear- Ow!" Sherlock exclaimed, resisting the urge to instinctively turn, but there was a sharp object near his neck.

"I only pulled your hair! It's not like I cut you! Wimp..." She muttered, more gently taking another strand and cutting it. "Not that it matters now but do you have a preference for your hair?" she questioned, more ridiculous hairdo's coming to mind.

"Just make it decent, a bad cut will attract attention." He scowled with mild irritation. _S__he called me a wimp! why do I care what she thinks! _ his mind retorted, but then realized it was a good question. He had once told John he didn't care what the world thought about him, why was she different? The virus, that must be it.

"Hmph!" Eliza scoffed "I happen to have a reputation of giving highly recommended haircuts thank you!" and set to work, conscientiously clipping his curls with careful, diagonal snips. This continued in silence for 20 minutes, the only break in silence being her instructing him to turn or shut his eyes. After the cut she allowed him to do research on his cell as the odd rustling noise of disposable gloves filled the quiet room from streaking the chemicals on to his once onyx strands. After a final rinse and conditioner they went to the mirror to inspect her work. It was quite short, with an obvious part that aligned with his left pupil. It was combed and cut so that he could either have bangs hiding his face or could slick it back so there was a hill of hair starting from the part and moving right that ended at the outside tip of his eyebrow. Fashionable yet average, with the possibility of disguise "Excellent" Sherlock stated with an approving nod to Eliza and she smiled.

"Any luck with the deciphering?" she asked, immediately deducing the answer as his brows furrowed in frustration.

"No, I have tried looking up historical significance, the authors, plot summaries-"

"You know nothing about Harry Potter? How is that possible!"

"Well _obviously _I do now, and I do not immerse myself in foolish activities of dull people and their pointless lives."

_Ow, right in the childhood._ Eliza sighed"So what's our next step?"

"More research." Sherlock replied, taking a seat of the end of the couch and typing with fierce concentration. Eliza joined him on the couch and began research herself. _Why am I never comfortable _she thought bitterly, changing into a curled up position. As time passed she kept shifting, attracting irritated glances from Sherlock until finally her head found a pillow and her calves rested on the leather arm of the couch, her feet hanging lazily off the side.

Sherlock looked down in surprise as Eliza's head nuzzled the side of his leg before finally seeming content. Puzzled he stared, waiting for her to say something, but she seemed oblivious that her new pillow was his thigh. _Maybe this is an American thing? Oh no, not that blasted virus again... _he thought as the warm feeling returned, this time though it seemed to circulate his heart. _Strange._ He continued to research but was distracted by her, wait- "What are you doing?"_  
_

"Texting a friend, we are going sightseeing tomorrow." she looked up and her eyes widened. "Oh my! I'm sorry, I didn't realize-" She exclaimed, lifting her head off his leg so quickly she accidentally hit her head on her phone.

Sherlock gave a muffled laugh "No it's fine." he stated and she slowly let her head rest on him once again. "We must be missing something..." he said, grabbing the laptop with the recording of the 'date' and putting headphones on before pressing play. He looked down and saw Eliza deep in thought, eyes closed and brows furrowed in concentration. He reached down and began petting her hair _it helps __stimulate the brain cells _and a small smile appeared on her face. It was a strange feeling for him, but pleasant and he smiled when Eliza's hazel eyes popped open and she exclaimed "Eight!" and whipped out her phone once again.

"Yes their next meeting is at Eight on Saturday, what does that-"

"No! The darts tournament, Grant's first shot was horrid but he said that it was 'exactly what he meant to' do-"

"Which can correspond to the book chapters! Brilliant!" he exclaimed after looking at her web search.

"_The House of Harfang _and... _The Deathday Party _so what does that mea-"

"Of course! Harfang is one of the members so they are obviously meeting at his house. Deathday party must mean an assassination attempt, which fits perfectly with the ice- meth- since the drug lord and 'Prince of Ice' Damian Walpole is scheduled to make a court appearance next Monday."

"I thought you didn't bother yourself with '_foolish activities of dull people and their pointless lives'_." Eliza mocked to which Sherlock replied with a sigh and gestured to a nearby table where a newspaper lay.

"Oh. Well you have to forgive me this time."

"Oh?"

"I did solve your little mystery after all." she stated, giving the intelligent face looking down at her an overly innocent smile.

"It was a three patch problem!" he said angrily, which just made her smile wider.

"Stop smiling!" he huffed and she bit her lip, not really trying to suppress her laugh of his little tantrum.

"I'm just teasing you, that's what friends do." she said as she stood, nodding towards the stairs after realizing how late it had become.

He obliged, muttering a halfhearted "Goodnight" with a tint of new found anger as he plopped down on his cot angrily. _Why am I angry that she said friends?_

__**Sorry this is basically fluff, and it's bad and yeah...**

**Life stuff is getting in the way.**

**Review, Follow, Fave and all that jazz.**

**Sorry once again- Eleora .**


	12. Day Off

"Sherlock I'm going out, I'll be back by 8!" Eliza called as she wrapped her favorite scarf around her neck and headed toward the door. "Fine!" the ex-consulting detective answered harshly. They hadn't spoken since the day before, and although Eliza wanted to believe it was because her friend was focused in his 'mind palace' formulating a plan, she knew deep down, and by the tone of his voice just then, that she had once again upset him in some inexplicable way. Funny wasn't quite the right word to describe how easily he was distressed, especially after what she thought was such a pleasant evening for both of them. Steeping out into the London street she shrugged off the unpleasant thoughts, determined to have a pleasant day with Molly, a pathologist at St. Barts hospital whom she had met at a bar and one of her two friends that lived within driving distance.

x*X*x*X*x*X*x*X*x*X*x*X*x*X*x

Stepping out of the cab, Eliza hastily paid the driver before rushing to greet her friend with a hug that Molly excepted with warm surprise.

"I'm so glad you could get the day off!" Eliza said excitedly, a wide grin on her face.

"Me too, it's been too long! You look lovely!" Molly replied cheerily, admiring her blue pea-coat. Molly had always loved dark blue tones but was always afraid it would make her own skin look even paler. "Oh thanks darling, same to you!" Eliza replied shyly. "So where are we?" she asked curiously and her friend pointed behind her, a huge grin on her face. Eliza whipped around, awestruck by the sight of Big Ben before her. She quickly grabbed Molly's hand and pulled her close before snapping a picture. They laughed excitedly, admiring the grand architecture before continuing north along the Thames, chit-chatting as they walked.

"So Molly, is there a special someone in your life?"

"Well, um, there was this one guy I liked for a long time but right when I thought he felt the same for me he... Moved away. He hasn't contacted me since." she said sadly. Eliza could hear the lump in her throat as she finished but then she quickly pasted a smile on and said "I'm getting over him though. Just need to have someone new as the final step is all. There's supposed to be some new people transferring from a different hospital soon so you never know."

Deciding not to pry, Eliza responded "That's good, I'm sure you will find someone soon."

"What about you Eliza?"

"I don't know honestly, I like this guy but we are really close-" _Literally_ she thought while she continued "and there's times where it seems as if he feels the same but then... I don't know, it's almost as if he purposely shuts off his emotions or doesn't realize them. I'm starting to think he will never feel the same for me."

"Have hope dear, without hope everything is lost. I completely understand though, I feel like- this is going to sound odd- but that girls like us are cursed to want what we can't have or the things and people that are almost impossibly hard to get. I know it's silly-"

"Not at all! I call it the Cinderella complex. We want our own Prince Charming, the rarest of rare, to want us, the -in our own eyes- seemingly average girl. So we just keep wishing... Dreaming that one day our own prince will come and wisk us away and off into their adventures..." Eliza trailed off, seeing Molly suppress a giggle.

"I'm sorry, you're absolutely right! It's just funny because you're such a romantic! But it's still very true." Molly said with a slight laugh.

Eliza sighed dramatically "Hopelessly so darling... Oh picture time!" she said, passing the camera to Molly so she could pose, pretending to hug the London Eye, before doing the same for Molly.

"It's so hard for me to move on... I always think the moment I do will be the moment he realizes he feels the same for me... stupid Cinderella complex." Eliza grumbled with a slight and forced laugh as they continued walking.

Molly could tell the laugh was fake and gave her friend an empathetic half smile "Just make sure you say what you need to, it's always a surprise when someone you love, in any way or amount, walks out of your life." she said, reminiscing the last moments she had with Sherlock, a muddled web she could hardly remember because of the drugs he slipped slipped her. Molly knew he was alive though, she had found a decaying thumb in her fridge the next day, one she had smuggled out of the lab for him only days before. She was left with only the bittersweet memory of him saying he needed her, and that was all the evidence she needed of him doing it to protect her as well, even if he did never return.

"I'm guessing you had things left unsaid then?" Eliza asked softly, sensing her friend's distress. "I don't know..." Molly replied, honestly not remembering, but not being able to explain she finished "I suppose there always is."

"Yeah, even the things they know, you still wish you would have said them..." Eliza answered. She thought of her father, all the things she wished she had said one last time. "I'm sorry I made things depressing." she quickly said with a smile, Fresh start remember, the past is past she reminded herself.

"It's all right, it's nice to get those things off your chest. Truthfully I don't have many friends to talk to about intelligent things, and the one I do talk to... Well, John doesn't want to hear about my silly little problems." Molly replied, her cheerful spirit returning.

"It's your life Mol! It's not silly, and I would like to meet this friend John of yours sometime. After all I could use all the help I can get making friends right about now." Eliza replied with a genuine laugh.

The friends continued sight seeing and shopping merrily until Eliza said she had to return to The Tea Cozy to open shop and she wished Molly goodbye. It was actually an hour before her scheduled time but she wanted to check on Sherlock and perhaps Molly had inspired her to talk to him...

x*X*x*X*x*X*x*X*x*X*x*X*x*X*x

Sherlock had been thinking about his feelings towards Eliza while she was away. After hours of thinking and two nicotine patches he had finally found the cause of his virus and had then proceeded in calling himself an idiot for five minutes straight, shaking his fists in anger and excitement as he paced his flat._ Of course! Idiot! I am interested in her! Obviously!_

He had finally deduced the elementary answer when he went back in time through his 'mind palace' to when he had worked with The Woman. The wonder of her peculiarity thrilled him and he had seen her dilated pupils and taken the pulse of her racing heart beside the fire and known she was much more interested in him. There was also how unlike himself he was around her, and at a time he felt similarly towards Molly. He couldn't focus around The Woman yet she compelled him to work better, and then with Molly he always said the most horrible things to yet he always apologized and in those final weeks he had trusted her and only pushed her away at times to keep her safe. He always tried to divorce motions, all day for every day for so long it was practically effortless to switch it on and off. But there were times his emotions demanded to be noticed, dispute his efforts and despite the consequential actions they caused.

His feelings weren't at a demanding state yet but he had a feeling that if Eliza was more flirtatious they would definitely surpass what he had felt for The Woman, which were more animalistic than logical- even for romance. What would happen if his feelings toward her were demanded though? It was easy enough to observe if she felt the same or not, he was pretty sure she did, but what was to be done about it? It would be simple enough to seduce her he suspected but something about that was wrong. He wasn't like John just seeking a mindless thrill, no, he was different... _she was different_. He hadn't met many people worth his time, and even with her average mind there was an intriguing air of mystery about her, but was pursuing her worthwhile? Would it turn out to simply be a pointless distraction brought on by silly emotions? Her words from one of their first days living together came back to him _"As long as you're still alive Sherlock Holmes, you should try living a little."_ For years he had lived for the puzzles, the thrill of the chase, and now to protect his friends who gave him an illogical but satisfying joy. Was she any different?

Her story had surprised his deduction skills before and he knew there was still much more of her story to be revealed, a puzzle. He knew by her confident nature that he would have to pursue her and keep her happy, a chase. If they were together he knew she would give him a joy his friends could not and would always have to protect her. But was it worth it, to subject her to that danger, have his heart and life on the line? Would he be able to have such a connection when he had distanced himself for so long? It was a risk and a mystery to say the least. He would have to think on it more but his thoughts were interrupted when he heard the door shut and the unmistakable clatter of her knocking down the coat rack. He rolled his eyes and smiled, she was home.


End file.
